When I started out as a cartoonist I absorbed as much literature about the art of cartooning as I could - I still do. But the most invaluable information I’ve found, to date, is talking to other cartoonists who are working now. Regarding gag cartoons, some of the most consistently helpful advice many have offered is “let the reader arrive at the punchline/joke themselves”. So, ‘don’t spoon-feed the joke to the reader and condescend.’

If they get it, they get it. If they don’t, they don’t. Sometimes it needs to be re-written or re-drawn, other times it just isn’t their cup of tea, or the reference doesn’t resonate with them, or a thousand other reasons (including “it’s just not that funny”). But never make it too obvious what the joke is right off the bat. Let the reader have to at least figure out what you’re trying to say.

Credit: Scott Dooley & Jason Chatfield

I still work very hard at tryin to make good cartoons that fall in that sweet spot between ‘this is too obscure’ and ‘this is too hand-holdy’. My friend and writing-partner Scott has a term that we use for when everything is literally labelled for the reader, like a giant steamship labelled the ‘S.S. Economy’ heading towards a big iceberg labelled ‘recession‘ or some other similarly obvious metaphor, like a politician holding a briefcase with their name on it. When we get to that point in having to make a joke work, we abandon it saying, “That’s a bit S.S”

If you’re interested in this kind of thing, you can hear more baffling musings like this in our weekly podcast called “Is There Something In This?” wherever you listen to podcasts.

FOOTNOTE: In defence of our dear editorial cartoonists, sometimes it’s essential to have to label things if the cartoons are being widely syndicated and in some cases, translated into different languages and cultures. Sometimes it’s even necessary to have a newspaper blowing in the composition somewhere with a headline relating to the story the cartoon is about, in case the newspaper running the cartoon hasn’t run that particular story… This could be alleviated by newspapers hiring more localised cartoonists to do cartoons about the area the newspaper services, but those days have sadly passed.

Get your head in the game, son!

A great trick I’ve learned for getting into the right mode is to psychologically ‘pregame’ before beginning any kind of creative work.

If I was to sit down and write an essay, then before typing a single word I would spend at least 15 minutes buried in some of the most inspiring and well-written essays ever written. Or, at least, writing from someone I enjoy reading.

If I was about to sit down to draw a cartoon, I would flip through the New Yorker and take a look at this week’s 16 or so cartoons that just ran, or flip through a cartoon collection book. It gets your mind well-and-truly in the mindset of that art form.

If I’m about to go out and do a series of comedy spots at night, I’ll switch gears by putting on a comedy special on the Netflix app on my phone, or looking at late night spots on Youtube.

Look at art that inspires you before you paint. Read writing that inspires you before you write. Watch comedy that inspires you before you perform. It sounds like simple advice, but it really is profoundly effective when you’re having trouble getting in the ‘mood’ to be creative.

I have to create every single day, whether I feel like it or not. Since I was 15 years old, I’ve always clipped out art that inspires me, or sparks off an idea or a mindset, and stuck it on my wall (or in my childhood days’, my wardrobe doors.) I used to think I would subconsciously absorb some of the great artists’ styles, but I’m not so sure about that.

These days I have art all around me in my studio (see above). If I’m about to draw up a rough for MAD, I’ll flip through the MAD 60 book, or a Sergio Aragonés or Don Martin collection. If I’m about to ink a New Yorker cartoon I might flip through some old Thurber, Addams or George Booth collections— or google other artists I’m enjoying right now and scroll through their work on Pinterest. My studio wall looks like a serial killer’s den, sure, and the art is now about 9 layers deep, but it does help kick my brain into gear every morning when it’s time to start work.

Only bring exactly what you need, not what you might want.

I like to work away from the studio as much as possible. It gets me out of any creative rut and in New York, there are countless places to plonk yourself down and get stuck into a job without distraction.

The only problem is, to work remotely, you need to pack a bag with not just things you’ll need for the job that needs doing, but things you MIGHT need just in case. You know, like that book you’ve been meaning to read, and that magazine you saw the article in, and your iPad, Oh, and the legal documents you’ve been meaning to read through. Yes, maybe now will be the time you get the time and focus to read those. OH! And make sure you bring a whole range of pens, pencils, brushes and watercolours just in case you need all of them. You never know. OH! And make sure you pack that digital drawing tablet. And the charging cable. And the cables for the laptop to connect to the tablet. Oh, and the different kinds of stylus. Just in case.

Wrong.

Packing everything for every possible contingency of what your brain might feel like doing is not recommended. In fact, even having a bag/tote/backpack can interfere with completing your task.

By having everything in your backpack, it means you could do an infinite number of different things you’ve been meaning to get to, just in case you feel in the mood. With endless choice comes crippling uncertainty, and inevitably, you, hanging out in Starbucks, scrolling through your Instagram feed, liking photos of pugs holding bottles of wine… I mean… procrastinating.

Simplicity breeds productivity.

If the job really only requires you to bring a sketchbook, a pen and a phone (to scan it in.) then just bring a sketchbook, a pen and a phone. That’s it. Don’t even bring a bag. Carry the things so they’re the only thing you’ll be doing while you’re out. It helps you focus, and it stops you from potentially returning home frustrated that you wasted another day and got nothing done.

Back in 2010, there was a trend in the minimalism community of photographing the contents of your bag from above, all perfectly knolled to show how efficient you were at packing. I’m not going to lie, I had a Pinterest board of them… they were organisation porn. But many of them had way too much stuff — plus, they never showed an aerial photo of the owner of the backpack crippled with anxiety over what item they should take out next to get shit done.

Mmmm… knolling.

Try it at home, too.

The same principle applies when you’re not working remotely. If you work from home and do all your work from the one spot, try switching it up.

Maybe if you have laptop work to do, get it done while sitting on the bed with no other distractions around you. If you have drawing work to do, do it at a drawing desk with nothing but drawing equipment around you. If you really want to read that book, find a chair and sit with just the book. No phone, no tablet, no laptop. Just the book. Preferably in a room separate from the one where you usually do your work.

Why filling every moment of your attention is sapping your creativity, your ability to concentrate and your enjoyment of life.

Something I realised I was doing wrong in 2018, aside from peeling bananas, was filling every moment of time with doing something. Whether it was listening to a podcast when walking back from the gym, playing Angry Birds while on the subway, or having Netflix on in the background while I colour my comic strip, I never had a single moment of silence, much less boredom.

The second rule is to “embrace boredom.” The broader point here is that the ability to concentrate is a skill that you have to train if you expect to do it well. A simple way to get started training this ability is to frequently expose yourself to boredom. If you instead always whip out your phone and bathe yourself in novel stimuli at the slightest hint of boredom, your brain will build a Pavlovian connection between boredom and stimuli, which means that when it comes time to think deeply about something (a boring task, at least in the sense that it lacks moment-to-moment novelty), your brain won’t tolerate it.

Late in the year, I realised that 90% of my waking hours were spent with Bluetooth earbuds in, listening to podcasts, Instapaper articles or music and 10% was allowed for my brain to catch up on all of that information. The only time allowed to process it and make any sense of that enormous amount of input was during sleep — which, as you can imagine, was pretty restless.

I reinstated my daily practice of meditation which made a massive difference. It made me more mindful of my tendency to reach for my phone or fill some dead time with something.

The reality is: boredom is important. It allows your mind to wander and make connections it mightn’t have had the opportunity to while you were listening to another episode of the Tim Ferris podcast.

Creativity requires quiet. Part of the reason you get your best ideas in the shower is that you don’t have any other input — and your subconscious is on autopilot with something you’ve done routinely for decades — leaving you with the ability to make creative connections and come up with great ideas you might have missed out on having if you plugged up that time with further input.

I now carve out entire blocks of time with nothing in them on purpose. It was an experiment I tried in 2018 and the results were astounding. The space I carved out yielded more creativity than anything I could have activelyscheduled in those blocks of time.

This morning I was featured on one of my favourite cartooning blogs of all time; A Case for Pencils. It's basically a compendium of the most talented New Yorker cartoonists talking shop and sharing insights into their process. I've been reading it for years and I'm honoured to be included in it!